The Other Side of History
by Errant Reality
Summary: Hermione doesn't count on accidentally finding herself at Hogwarts in the time of the Marauders. She doesn't count on falling in love. She doesn't count on having a hand in history. She doesn't count on being alive before she was even conceived. But then, Hermione doesn't count on a lot of things.
1. Chapter 1

_God, I hate him sometimes_, thought Hermione as she sat on her bed, the hangings drawn, so that the only thing she could see was the edge of the Forbidden Forest out of the arched window, fringing the Hogwarts grounds in twisted shadows. Her fingers tinkered absently with the golden hourglass that hung from around her neck. Her thoughts chased themselves in her head, focusing on her red haired friend, Ron Weasley. Well, he was supposed to be her friend, but just today, he'd made another snide comment about her being a know it all. _It's not my fault I answer all the questions in class. If anyone else bothered with the homework, I wouldn't have to!_ She'd resisted the urge to slap him across the face and instead fled to her dormitory, knowing her couldn't follow, slamming the door so hard behind her that it made some of Parvarti's cosmetics rattle from their place on her bedside table. Tears built up in Hermione's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not over Ron Weasley; not again.

_Why can't he just keep his stupid mouth shut and his opinions to himself? _she fumed silently. Despite being one of her best friends, Ron had no filter, which resulted in his being completely tactless, usually to the detriment of Hermione. It wasn't that she was overly sensitive, but it was one thing for someone you didn't care about to make fun of you, and quite another when it was someone close to you. Their other friend, Harry Potter, often found himself caught in the middle of Ron and Hermione's bitter disputes. _Poor Harry_. Hermione felt bad for him, the guilt weighing on her chest every time either she or Ron stalked off in a huff after a round of vicious whispers or raised voices. She was closer to Harry, and the thought that it was always left to him to pick up the pieces and put them back together nearly killed her. _One day he's going to get sick of us and our fights and will decide that he's not going to take it anymore. And where will that leave us?_ Hermione scrunched up her face in shame, clutching the Time Turner closer to her chest, like a talisman. If she were Harry, she would have told Ron and herself to get the hell over it. But then, Harry probably understood what Ron and she knew - that they didn't really hate each other; they just disagreed a lot.

Part of Hermione loved the she could rile Ron so. Sometimes she hated it, his daftness, his inability to understand that the wizarding world and the Muggle world were so vastly different and he refused to take that into account whenever Hermione's childhood came up in conversation, but mostly she enjoyed the fact that she could go head to head with him in an argument and hold her own. Deep down, she knew she harboured feelings for Ron which bordered on romantic, but she could never admit that to herself. She'd rather die. Not to mention what _he_ would think. Even just letting her thoughts drift there mortified Hermione and reminded her of what he'd said. She plotted revenge.

_I could hex him as he walks down the corridor_, she thought.

"No, that's not original enough," she sighed out loud. _I could vanish his clothes at dinner in the Great Hall. Or I could put a Silencing charm on him_. _At least he wouldn't be able to insult anyone for a while_. These ideas circulated in her mind, around and around, like memories in a Pensieve, and all the while she absentmindedly ran her fingers over the Time Turner, flipping it on itself, over and over, the way her dark thoughts ran over themselves again and again.

With a start, she came back to herself, realising that she must have been staring at the sky for hours, the night now falling and the grey of twilight blanketing the grounds of Hogwarts and making the tops of the Forbidden Forest loom taller. It was dinner time. She didn't look forward to joining her classmates in the Great Hall, with all their laughing and their banter and their stress about homework. Besides, it meant seeing Ronald again, and she didn't know if she could do that without wanting to suckerpunch him. She almost stayed seated on her bed, her legs tucked under her, but her stomach growled, so despite her black mood, she pulled the hangings back from the bed and stood.

And stopped short.

_There's something different about the dormitory_, she thought as she frowned at the room she shared with the four other Gryffindor girls. She squinted, but couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. Perhaps it was the pile of clothes adorning the foot of Lavender's bed that she was sure weren't there before, or even just the disarray of its usually immaculate sheets. Maybe Lavender had come up to change before dinner and hadn't had time to tidy up after herself. But Hermione hadn't heard anything. As deep in her reverie as she was, she would have heard someone enter the dorm and rustle around. A hint of jasmine sweetened the air. Hermione puzzled over it as she made her way down to the now deserted Common Room. She was sure Parvati's perfume smelt like lavender, but maybe she was wrong. She didn't pay too much attention. It didn't matter. All that mattered was the food that was waiting and the glare she was going to give Ron. She walked faster.

The Great Hall, as usual, was filled with students, tucking into the magnificent food which was already stacked high on each of the four house tables. Hermione, slightly flustered from her rush to get to dinner, looked over the sea of heads, searching for her friends at the table furthest from the door. She spotted the messy jet black hair which belonged to Harry and walked towards him, trying to calm her breathing which had become faster, taking note that he was sitting besides a girl whose red hair reached to just below her shoulder blades. _Ok there's Ginny, but where's Ron? Hopefully not here. I don't want to see his face right now. Although, vanishing his clothes in front of everyone would have been fun_, Hermione mused and almost grinned at the thought of a horrified Ron standing naked in front of the entire school. How strange it was that Harry had come to dinner without his best friend. Sitting opposite him were three other boys, one of whom looked slightly familiar to her, although who he reminded her of, she couldn't say. _Who are they?_ she wondered, getting closer to Harry.

At that moment, he looked around the Great Hall and Hermione nearly fell over herself as she realised that the boy she thought was Harry was not her best friend. They looked terrifyingly alike and from a greater distance, she never would have been able to tell. This boy had hazel eyes and was missing the lightning shaped scar which marred Harry's pale forehead. This boy didn't slouch - he reclined, an easy going posture, with his arm draped over the back of his neighbour's chair, that suggested confidence and coolness; nothing like the slouch that Harry had, to hide from the eyes that constantly sought him out to catch a glimpse of wizarding fame. In that split second of recognition, she was hit with the realisation of her situation; she knew exactly why the dormitory had seemed different from her dormitory. The fact was, it wasn't her dormitory; or rather, it was, but the contents in it were not the ones she knew it to have. _Oh no, oh no, this can't be happening to me. There is no way. How could this be happening? It's impossible!_ she thought, her breathing getting faster and shallower.

And the other boy! She knew him!_ Who knew Lupin was young once? _He appeared strange without greying hair and worry lines carved into the flesh of his face, but it was definitely him, laughing and carefully cutting up the steak on his plate_. I wonder if he knows that one day he's going to end up back in this place_, Hermione thought.And it dawned on her that the boy sitting next to him was Sirius Black, the man who had recently escaped from Azkaban, the mass murderer; she recognised the features of the boy, which in years to come would become sunken and haggard, scars from his imprisonment in the isolated Wizard's prison – the same face which just that morning had been staring out savagely from people's copies of The Daily Prophet. Just that morning. She struggled to breathe. A shudder ran through her as she thought about what he would do, so many years from then, where he was nothing more than a boy, laughing with his friends over their stupid antics. What he had already done, in her time. She could hardy believe that anything would drive someone to do something as horrific as killing another person, especially when that other person had once been best friend. _After all, I'd never actually kill Ronald, as much as I want to slap him sometimes_. _What kind of thing would drive a person to the homicide of someone they love?_

Her eyes flickered over to the boy on Lupin's other side. Peter Pettigrew, she knew, was the man Sirius Black went to Azkaban for murdering, although looking at them now, there was nothing to suggest that one day they would hate each other to the point of murder. They were laughing and being stupid; Sirius flicked a bit of food at Peter and Peter glared back at the other boy. She stared at Peter, at his squinting, watery eyes and his two front teeth which stuck out more than they ought have, and she felt sick_. All that was left of him was a finger. A single finger_.

And the boy she had taken to be Harry was none other than James Potter, Harry's father. It was true what everyone said; father and son did look exactly alike, except for the eyes; Harry's eyes were green, not the hazel which were now observing the Hall. The same green eyes, which were now too flickering around the Hall, trying to see what was keeping James' attention from their group of friends.

For an instant those eyes met Hermione's own brown ones and she realised with a strange jolt in her navel that the red haired girl she thought was Ginny was Lily Evans. There were none of her features in Harry's face, nothing to show that he was hers, just the eyes. But as that green gaze held on to Hermione's, something like longing and homesickness and wonder coiled in her chest, and her stomach disappeared into a flurry of furious wings that held her tight and pulled her to the ground. The cold stone floor met her cheek with a crack and the stars winked down from the clear night above, gently mocking the stupidity of humans.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who read the first chapter and favourited it. I didn't expect such an overwhelming positive response to this. You're all great.**

Hermione woke in the Hospital Wing, a place she was not altogether too familiar with. Her head was throbbing and she her vision swam ever so slightly around the edges, so she had to close her eyes to calm the feeling that she might faint again. She lay there taking in the clean smell of the room and the warmth of the perfectly white, crisp sheets enveloping her. She tried to think back and remember what had happened. She remembered seeing Harry, who was not actually Harry but James, with Lily and their other friends. _What a strange dream_ she thought to herself, at the same time not entirely convinced that it had been a dream. She opened her eyes again and gazed at the vaulted ceiling.

A youthful woman bustled around the foot of the bed, holding a yellow concoction in her hands that sent off little puffs of purple smoke every few seconds. She administered it to the boy in the next bed, whose skin was covered in pus filled blisters. He gagged as the potion went down, turning his face the same shade as the purple smoke that the potion had been admitting. It wasn't until the nurse turned around to head the other way that Hermione realised who she was. It banished all doubts from her mind. She really had been transported to another time.

"Madame Pomfrey?" she squeaked, struggling to sit up in her bed.

"Oh no dear, not 'madame', not yet. Perhaps one day, if St Mungo's certify me after my training here. It's just 'Miss Pomfrey' until then," she smiled, "And you're looking much better today. How are we feeling?"

"What happened? Why am I in the Hospital Wing?"

"You fainted in the Great Hall. It's nothing to be worried about. It happens to some girls their first time. Although, you should have eaten something, dear, then you might not have fainted," said Miss Pomfrey, smiling down at Hermione, who had no idea what she was talking about and told her so.

"Oh dear, you really don't know do you? Well I suppose I had better tell you."

So it was that Hermione learnt all about the biological cycles of a girl. "A woman" as Miss Pomfrey had gently put it. Apparently, it hadn't been only her stress that had made her faint, but the fact that she had also gotten her first period. _And it wasn't even my mum who was there for me. And I can't write to her either. What am I going to do?_ Hermione was despairing about her predicament as she trudged back to her dormitory, after being released from the Hospital Wing, wanting to find comfort in the familiarity of a bed and isolation from the rest of the world. She pulled up short in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, her heart sinking in her chest as she remembered that she did not know the password which would incite the painting to swing forward and admit her into the Common Room.

"I'm sorry, but if you don't know the password, I'm afraid I can't let you in. That's the rule," the Fat Lady informed Hermione, who felt the tears which she had been fighting finally spill out of her eyes and roll down her cheeks. She just wanted to crawl into a corner and let the earth swallow her whole. Not knowing what to do, what she possibly could do, she stood there sniffling, letting the tears drench the front of her robes. She had no one here; she wasn't even supposed to be here. People weren't meant to travel so far back in time; in fact, it was unheard of. As far as Hermione was aware, no one had ever gone so far back in time before – it was thought to be impossible, according to every book she read on the subject_. And what will Professor McGonagall and the Ministry think of me? Professor McGonagall vouched for me! And I just proved the Ministry right. I am too stupid to have the responsibility of a Time Turner._

From behind her came the laughter of several people and Hermione, ashamed of being seen as she was, tear stained and miserable, leant against the wall, wishing it to envelop her. Of course it didn't_, _and she was spotted by the people to whom the laughter belonged. They were none other than those whose presence had made her realise what had happened the night before in the Great Hall. Their smiles faded slightly when they saw Hermione standing against the wall, the streaks that her tears left on her cheeks very pronounced in the light of the torches in the corridor. There was an awkward silence as the group stared at her and she avoided their eyes.

"Oh hey, you're the girl who fainted in front of the whole school last night, aren't you?" said Sirius, pretending not to see the tears in Hermione's eyes, or the wet patch on her robes.

"Sirius! Merlin's beard you're an idiot," Lily admonished, then turned to Hermione. "Don't mind him; he's just really tactless sometimes. Are you ok? We were worried you had hurt yourself when you collapsed. I'm Lily by the way. Come on, let's go inside," the red haired girl said, draping her arm across Hermione's shoulders and guiding her through the hole behind the portrait, which Hermione didn't even realise had swung open.

"Let's get you cleaned up eh? Come on, up to the dormitory, we don't want you to be more embarrassed than you have to be. Nosy bastards are staring like they've never seen an upset girl before. We'll have some privacy in the dorm, at least."

With that, led by Lily, Hermione walked up the familiar staircase to the dormitory which she shared while she was at Hogwarts. _Of course it's the same one that Harry's mum lived in, or lives in. I have to get used to the fact that I'm no longer in the present, or that this _is_ the present_. Hermione's head hurt just thinking about the fact that she was no longer living in the time she was used to; the time she was supposed to. She was only dimly aware that Lily waved her wand and muttered an incantation, leaving her robes as dry as they were before she had started crying. This kindness showed to her by a complete stranger made Hermione want to cry all the harder. She fought the tears which threatened to run down her face again, taking a deep breath to steady her shaky breathing.

"There we go. That's better. It's ok, you're just having a bad week, that's all. It happens to all of us," said Lily, her green eyes filled with concern for the bushy haired girl who was standing before her with red rimmed eyes. "Do you want to talk about it? That helps sometimes, but I guess it's ok if you don't want to talk about it to a stranger."

Hesitantly, she led Hermione to her bed and sat her down, not removing her arm from around her shoulders. Hermione started crying again at Lily's kindness. _Harry will never get to know his mother's kindness_, she thought, _even though there's no one in the world who deserves it more than him_. The ache of it made her chest hurt and the tears spilled over her face again.

She suddenly felt another arm go around her and realised that Lily was hugging her and telling her it was ok. Hermione cuddled closer to the other girl's body, taking comfort in the warmth that Lily emitted; she felt safe there in Lily's arms. She clung to the red haired girl, knowing that one day, when Lord Voldemort turned his sights to them, she was going to leave behind a son, a broken home and a headstone in a sleepy village. It was enough to make anyone cry. Hermione tried to control her breathing, taking deep breaths to steady herself, to combat the sobs which were threatening to break out. A musky smell filled her nostrils, tinged with the scent of jasmine. The smell was coming from Lily, she realised and she took another breath through her nose, trying to commit the fragrance to memory. _Harry will never know this, how good his mother smells - like home_. And indeed, it reminded Hermione of her parents' house, of the jasmine vine that wound itself around the latticework her mother had erected in the back garden, specially for it. It was the smell of home, of love.

She removed her arms from around Lily and looked into her face to thank her. The words caught in her throat as she looked into the green eyes which were gazing at her with concern. _She's gorgeous_, Hermione thought,_ I can see why James fancied her_. Suddenly her arms felt too empty, and she regretted pulling away. But the reality of her situation sat hard on her shoulders. _Snap out of it Hermione, you cannot let yourself be attracted to your best friend's mum. You just can't._ If she was being honest, Hermione would admit that it wasn't the first time that she had found herself attracted to another girl, but mostly she tried to ignore the feelings. The first girl she had been attracted to was one a few years older than herself at Hogwarts, and a Slytherin, nonetheless. Obviously Hermione hadn't done anything about her feelings. She had always been too afraid to admit them to anyone because she knew that it would open the door for more judgement; she didn't want to ostracise herself more from her peers because of her sexual preferences – she was already set apart for being so smart and for being friends with Harry. But looking at Lily she wondered how anyone could help being attracted to her.

"Um thank you. I feel better now. You're right I'm just having a bad week. I'm Hermione Granger, just in case you were wondering," she said feebly to Lily, who still had her arm wrapped around Hermione.

"Nice to meet you Hermione," Lily replied taking her arm away to shake Hermione's hand. "So what year are you in? I don't think I've ever seen you before."

"Er third year," she said, giving a little smile, wondering what year Lily was in, and whether they would see each other much.

"Really? You're in third year. That's odd, I'm in third year and I can swear that I've never seen you before," said Lily, making Hermione wince at her own stupidity. She cast her mind out, thinking of an excuse to give, to account for why they had never met.

"Erm that's because I'm new. My parents thought they would home school me, but that didn't work out. They thought I'd be safer here at Hogwarts than at home, on account of You-Know-Who being out there. They say the only person he's scared of is Dumbledore, so here must be the safest place in the wizarding world," Hermione quickly said, hoping Lily wouldn't pick up on the tremble in her voice. Luckily for her, Lily was oblivious to any inconsistencies in Hermione's voice and instead said, "Finally, someone to fill the spare bed in here! This dorm was kind of empty with no one in that bed near the window. We were wondering if anyone was ever going to fill it, and now here you are. That's so great," Lily couldn't quite hide her excitement. "So when did you get here? I didn't know they would accept anyone here during the middle of the school year. Have you got your timetable yet? Do you think we're in any of the same classes?"

All the questions fired at her were confusing Hermione, not to mention they pointed out all the problems she didn't realise she had until Lily brought them up with her interrogation. _How am I going to get a timetable and convince the teachers that I'm new? They'll know the truth for sure. The only thing I can do is go to Dumbledore and tell him the truth and hope he believes me. How could I have been so stupid to play with the Time Turner? I knew of the danger I could put myself into by playing with it._ _Stupid girl, stupid, stupid girl. How could you do this to yourself?_

"Um I haven't actually got my timetable yet. I think I'll go now actually. I need to see Dumbledore. I was supposed to see him yesterday after dinner, but I fainted and haven't had the chance to see him yet. I'll see you later though," she said, flashing Lily a smile before heading to the door.

"Okay, I'll introduce you to everyone else later. They'll be thrilled to know that we have a new person in our year," Lily yelled to Hermione's retreating back.

And so Hermione sauntered off down the stairs, wondering how Dumbledore was going to react to her presence in the castle, long before she was due to be there.


	3. Chapter 3

"Miss Granger, I believe you have caused quite a stir in the castle," Dumbledore greeted her as she entered his office, with Professor McGonagall standing sternly just behind her left shoulder. Hermione blushed at this statement and wondered how on earth he knew her name. But then again, it was Dumbledore; nothing got past him, not even a student who wasn't a student.

"I'm sorry Professor. I swear I didn't mean to hurt him, just scare him a little. He was making fun of me," she said staring stubbornly at the floor. Sirius had decided to imitate her fainting when he saw her stalk through the Common Room, her face still streaked with the vestiges of her tears, and furious, she had tried to teach him a lesson with a little magic. Unfortunately for her, he had ended up stumbling around without eyesight for a few moments, tripping over a Fanged Frisbee and breaking his arm.

"Minerva, thank you for escorting Miss Granger to my office," McGonagall took this as a suggestion to leave and with a swish of her robes, she closed the door behind her. Dumbledore turned his twinkling blue eyes to Hermione. "Now, what are we to do with you Miss Granger?"

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to."

"That is not what I'm referring to, Miss Granger, and I believe you know that."

"Oh," Hermione was surprised for a moment. How could she continue without sounding completely ridiculous? Who was going to believe her story? No one, probably, except perhaps Dumbledore. _I'm sure he's been around long enough to know that sometimes strange things just happen. I'll tell him the truth_, she thought, "Um, well you see sir, I have a Time Turner in my possession - with a grant from the Ministry -" she added when Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up, "and I was brooding in my dormitory, fiddling with it. I didn't even know I was doing it! And the next thing I know, I'm here, in the past, staring at my best friend's parents in the Great Hall. I fainted when I realised who they were. Then I woke up in the Hospital Wing with Madame, I mean, Miss Pomfrey looking over me," she finished lamely. She hung her head in shame. _What kind of stupid, ridiculous story to have to tell one of the most powerful wizards in the world_, she thought to herself. _It'll be a miracle if any adult ever trusts me again_. There was silence between the teacher and the student as he contemplated what to do with the young girl before him. The only sounds Hermione could hear were the puffs and whirs of the mysterious machines on a table in the corner, punctuated every so often by the murmuring of Dumbledore's pet phoenix, Fawkes. Hermione looked up at her professor who was observing her thoughtfully, his eyes peering over his folded hands on which his chin rested.

"Miss Granger, I'm sure you can appreciate that the problem you present to me is a unique one. As I understand it, you are from the future, and, as I'm sure you are aware, such a feat of time travel has never before been accomplished. Naturally, though you are at the frontier of a new magical discovery, this must be kept a secret, lest it encourage other, less able minded wizards to attempt the same thing." Hermione nodded as Dumbledore spoke. She'd figured as much. _Besides, I don't want my name sullied for all eternity because I was the one witch absent minded enough to accidentally send herself back twenty years into the past_.

"Obviously, Miss Granger, my first priority in this situation is to find a way to send you home. However, as this is the first time such a situation has arisen, I find myself at a loss. I fear the power to send you home is beyond me. At least, for the moment," he said reassuringly, as Hermione's eyes widened in fear that she'd be stuck in the 1970s. "I will try my utmost to find a way. But I shall have to bring this to the Ministry's attention. I shall have to speak with Minister McLaird and perhaps the Ministry can conduct research into a solution."

"Not Cornelius Fudge?" Hermione blurted, the unfamiliar name making her start. As soon as she said it, she winced. _There are rules about this kind of thing, aren't there? I definitely shouldn't have said that_, she mentally berated herself. But Dumbledore only smiled from behind his half moon glasses.

"Cornelius Fudge is currently Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. As it is, he might be just the wizard we're after. "

Hermione audibly swallowed. She'd given something about the future away, and that in itself might have been a catastrophe, but Dumbledore was smiling at her like it was nothing at all, like he was used to young women coming into his office and predicting the future. She nodded.

"I understand."

"In the meantime, I suppose you'll have to continue your study here," Dumbledore said, tapping a piece of parchment with the tip of his wand, and her timetable appeared, written in cramped black letters.

"Thank you sir," she murmured, taking it.

"Miss Granger, unlike some, I do not have a gift for Divination, and I expect that true Seers are a rare and unexpected gift to the wizarding world, though visions and dreams do not serve as well as experiences of reality," Dumbledore smiled, leaning back into his chair, the tip of his hat brushing the small chandelier that hung above his desk. Hermione digested his words slowly, comprehension dawning on her panicked and frazzled mind.

"I promise I won't say anything, professor," she nodded.

"Of course. I suspect you'll have some trouble adjusting to our present, however. These are dark times, Miss Granger," he shook his head, his auburn hair swaying slightly, his temples graying as though from worry.

"Do you mean Lord Voldemort?" Hermione couldn't help but ask. For all her reading concerning wizarding history, the reality of her situation didn't hit her until that very moment. _Oh God, what the hell have I gotten myself into? This isn't just the time of Harry's parents, it's the time of the First Wizarding War! Fucking hell, Hermione, this is getting worse by the second! _Dumbledore shot her a look, a half smile playing about his lips.

"People from your time are not afraid to speak his name?"

"Fear of a name increases fear of a thing itself," Hermione replied, a grin of her own breaking out and spreading across her face. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"What a truly remarkable thing to say."

"I heard it from a very wise man once. I tend to believe him."

"It is a good philosophy to have, Miss Granger. The school has remained, as yet, unthreatned, and I shall see to it that it remains so. But if you have any concerns, feel free to speak to any of your professors or myself. Now, I believe you should be off back to your dormitory. There are classes to prepare for, after all."

Hermione nodded, and still clutching her timetable, rose from her chair, knowing that she was being dismissed. She turned towards the door.

"Oh, and Miss Granger?" Dumbledore called from behind her. Her stomach dropped. _What have I done now?!_ She turned back slowly. "Have a good night," the headmaster bid with a twinkle in his eyes.

"You too professor," Hermione sighed in relief.

Not knowing where else to go, Hermione headed back to the Gryffindor Common Room, giving the Fat Lady the password that Lily had run after her to give when she realised that without it Hermione would be stuck outside the Common Room again. All Hermione wanted to do was collapse in one of the comfortable armchairs in front of the fire and think about her predicament. She was not, however, given the chance.

"Hermione! There you are. I was wondering when you were going to come back," Lily said, rushing over to greet the bushy haired girl. Taking her hand she leaned close and whispered in Hermione's ear, "I need saving. Potter and his gang are being complete dicks."

She gave Hermione a grin and pulled her up the stairs to their dormitory.

"Oh yeah, your stuff was brought up before, but you weren't here. They left it at the foot of your bed."

Sure enough, there at the foot of her bed was a trunk filled with things that didn't actually belong to her, and a note from Dumbledore:

_Here are some things to get you through your time at Hogwarts. If anything is unsuitable, or you need anything else, inform me and I will see to it._

_Best of luck,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the thought that someone had to go buy her underwear, but didn't say anything out loud. The whole situation was strange enough without her telling everyone else about it. _How would I even begin to explain?_

"Well, c'mon, show me your timetable, I want to know if we're in the same classes," Lily said, throwing herself down on Hermione's bed, her shirt riding up and exposing a sliver of pale skin. Hermione handed over the parchment Dumbledore gave her, trying not to fantasise about running the tip of her forefinger over that skin. _Is it as soft as it looks? _She bit her lip as Lily's green eyes scanned the parchment.

"Yes! All the same classes. Aren't you lucky?" Lily grinned at her and Hermione smiled back. Putting aside the fact that her stomach took up acrobatics every time Lily caught her eyes, Hermione thought that for once she might actually fit in with one of the girls in her own year, especially as she didn't really get along with Lavender and Parvati. _There's only so much gossip about some fourth year Hufflepuff that a girl can take_, she thought, exasperated. _At least Lily doesn't seem interested in whatever other people are doing. Thank god for people who care about bigger things that what - or who - some random is doing_ _in their spare time_. She leaned with her shoulder on the post of the bed, half smiling at Lily.

"Hey, come here and sit down, you're making me nervous," Lily called, and pulled Hermione down onto the bed by her sleeve. "Shit, we're going to have the best year, Hermione. I saw what you did to Sirius downstairs, and anyone who doesn't take shit from one of those boys is a good friend in my books," she laughed, "I mean, damn, that was _genius_! They're not bad once you get to know them, I suppose, but they'll pull pranks on you constantly, and I have to tell you, it is a pain in the ass to be the butt of their jokes all the time. Don't count on them leaving you alone though, even if you did break Sirius' arm," Lily said seriously.

"But I didn't _mean_ to break his arm!" Hermione blustered, but Lily waved the words away.

"Don't even worry about it. Those boys have broken bones so many times it's a wonder the Infirmary hasn't set itself up in their dormitory. Besides, they'll respect you more now that they know you can hold your own."

Lily was right. As the weeks passed and Hermione became better friends with her peers, she found that the boys respected her because she could stand up to them. There was a huge difference in dealing with them in comparison to dealing with Harry and Ron. The latter were always absorbed in some trouble, some bigger scheme, shouldering the responsibility of saving the world and not even knowing that that's what they were doing. The Marauders, as they liked to call themselves, were a whole different situation; they picked up magic easily, barely struggling with their classes, and spent most of their time cajoling Lily and Hermione and the other Gryffindor girls into joining their antics. Sometimes Hermione had to hex them just to get them to stop.

And of course Lily was right about other things, like the fact that Hermione found herself having the time of her life with her new peers. Where topping her classes was not a challenge in her time, here she found herself in a constant competition with Sirius and James and Lily. And she didn't always win. Sometimes she'd find herself thrown backwards in a mock duel, or out performed in classes, or outwitted in theory based homework. It was the most stimulating thing to have happened to her since she learned to read.

Still, she missed her time. It sat in her chest, an ache that didn't go away, no matter how much she laughed or studied. She missed her banter with Harry and Ron. She had to admit to herself that she even missed her squabbles with Ron, even if fighting with him was just a result of frustration because other feelings weren't being expressed. _How can he not see that I like him? _she used to think to herself after they'd stormed off in separate directions. Now she thought differently. _I'm not going to waste my time trying to flirt with a boy who doesn't realise that I _am_ flirting._

On the other hand, the more time she spent with Lily, the more she came to realise that the romantic feelings she developed for her friend were becoming stronger. Just seeing Lily would brighten a bad day, as though suddenly all the clouds hanging over her dispersed and the sun shone again; even the homesickness she carried around in her chest fluttered away and hid when Lily looked at her with almost luminescent green eyes. But she was afraid of what her feelings might mean for their friendship, and what it implied for herself as a person; she was afraid to openly admit to her sexuality. There weren't many queer witches or wizards, and while most people were fine with the notion, there were those of the old Pure Blood families who looked at it with as much contempt as they would look at a half blood wizard. She had considered owning up and confessing to Lily, but the thought alone made her jittery and cold. _What if it ruins everything we have? What if she walks away? _Just thinking about it made her panic. There was nothing more humiliating than making yourself vulnerable and Hermione really didn't know how the Lily would react to finding out that she liked her.

She sighed. _What is it with me and red heads?_


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione had never much been aware of the passing of time before. Oh, she noticed when the seasons changed, the temperature dropped and the leaves turned flaring red and gold and fell off the trees, but it never bothered her to wake up in the morning and realise that yet another day had passed. Not until she found herself in a place where every day she was stuck in the past was another day closer to the day she was born. Part of her didn't want to leave, the other part longed to see familiar faces. So she did what she always did when she was in times of trouble, and gravitated to the library, scouring the books for anything that might help her get home.

Avoiding the attention of the stern librarian, Madame Pince, Hermione snapped _Time and Relative Dimensions in Space_ shut, cursing under her breath at the blue covered book. She pulled _Worst Time Travel Disasters_ towards her, knowing, before she even opened it, that there would be nothing of any use in its pages. _My own name should be in this book, _she thought as she flicked absently through the pages and then slammed it shut. As far as she could tell, no one had ever done what she had, and finding information on how to get back to the future was impossible.

The library had never failed her before and this was particularly irritating to Hermione. _How am I to get back if the only place I can find information doesn't have any?_ It was driving her insane. She could not help but think that if she just looked in one more book, she might find an answer. It had developed into an obsession; every free moment she had was spent in the library, going through ancient books, new books, leather bound books, books with yellow pages, books with missing pages, anything she could find. Soon she had searched in every book containing the word "Time" in the title, except those in the restricted section, but to no avail. There was no mention of anything anywhere.

The library had never failed her before. It helped with the philosopher's stone, and it had helped with the basilisk and the chamber of secrets, some of the biggest secrets in the wizarding world, but for something as widely known as time travel, there was nothing. She'd hardly ever been so frustrated in her life. She snapped at anybody who so much as looked at her funny. It kept some of the first years out of her way at least. She had spent so much time in the library that she was neglecting her new friends and they noticed it.

"That's it, I don't care what happens, you, Hermione are coming to the Quidditch match on Saturday," said James, plopping down in the seat beside her as she buried her face in her hands.

"But, but I was – "

"No buts about it. You spend way too much time in the library. Sunlight is actually good for you, you know. Besides it's the first match of the season, you can't miss it. Everyone will be there," James insisted.

"Yeah c'mon Hermione, you can't leave me alone at the match. What am I supposed to do without you?" whined Lily, who'd followed James; though everyone knew that she would be far from alone at the game. James gave Lily a sideways look; that's the way he complained when he wanted _her _to do something for him. He mentally shrugged if off; _girls, _he thought.But that is what persuaded Hermione, Lily asking her. She bit her lip, not agreeing to the plan out loud.

Hermione was confounded by her situation with Lily. She was her best friend now, and she was desperate not to wreck that, to say or do something stupid that would give her away. But at the same time, the more she tried to deny her feelings, the more she realised that she couldn't_. I am not going to do anything about it. I'm going to be her friend and that is all. And I am going to find a way home. _Besides, she knew that James fancied Lily. He would never forgive her, even though Lily wasn't the least bit attracted to him. It wasn't as if Lily was attracted to Hermione anyway. _Still, I can dream_, she thought. She dreamt about telling Lily how she felt, she dreamt about kissing her, holding her hand in the corridors, all the things any couple would do. _They're all just empty fantasies; nothing is going to happen between us_. _How could it? I'm a girl! At least I'll get to be with her at the Quidditch match._

Sighing resignedly, she nodded. She would go to the Quidditch match.

Emotions ran high on Saturday. Excitement and anticipation were almost tangible in the air in the Great Hall as the school gobbled breakfast, clad in an array of gold and silver and green and red. It felt almost like the beginning of summer, the buzz of the students as they looked forward to a promise of sunshine and warmth after long days of frost and interminable cold. Even Hermione felt the tingle of it between her shoulder blades, beneath her sternum - the kind of feeling that made you want to fly.

"Go on Will, you have to eat something before the match," Sirius was saying to a boy looking rather green farther down the table.

"I'm glad he's over there," Hermione whispered in Lily's ear, nodding at Will, who looked like he might throw up any second. Lily's laughter filled their end of the table and Hermione's stomach took up acrobatics again. James looked up from his breakfast and grinned at Lily.

"So Evans, do I get a date if Gryffindor wins?"

"Keep dreaming Potter," Lily rolled her eyes at him, but rather than be dejected that she brushed him off, he flashed them a sly grin.

"Oh I intend on keeping up those dreams I have of you Evans."

"Eugh, you're so disgusting sometimes Potter."

"I know you'll come around some day," said James grinning at the two girls sitting side by side. This comment struck a chord within Hermione as she realised that no matter what feelings she may have for Lily, she and James would end up together. She bit her lip; they would have to so that Harry could be born, so Voldemort would fall. She sighed; there was no stopping fate, not even for such a trifling thing like emotions.

"Hey you're not still pissed off that we didn't let you go to the library today are you?" asked James, mistaking her sigh for another matter. "Because there's a Quidditch game for us to win! And Sirius and I promise to make it interesting, don't we Sirius?"

"Oh no, you two aren't going to do something stupid are you? McGonagall almost kicked you off the team last time. Remember that?" scolded Lily, suspicion flashing in her green eyes as the two boys looked slightly guilty.

"Well come on James, let them finish their breakfast. There's a game to get ready for," Sirius said, pulling Will to his feet and holding him up to prevent him from collapsing. The kid looked a little green.

"See you guys later. It'll be a good match, I promise you that," said James over his shoulder as he walked behind Sirius out of the Great Hall.

"I suppose we'd better get going too," Remus nudged Peter to his feet, "we need to get good seats."

"We'll come with you," suggested Scarlett, one of the girls also in their year.

And so their group made their way down to the Quidditch pitch, the rest of the school straggling behind them. Getting closer to the pitch, the excitement hung over everything like a blanket, and Hermione was sure that if she had a spoon she could scoop it out from the air in front of her. In one part of the stands stood the red clad Gryffindor supporters and on the other side the green and silver supporters of Slytherin. In front of each group of supporters hung huge banners depicting either the Gryffindor lion or the Slytherin serpent. Looking down on the pitch, Hermione could just make out James in his scarlet uniform, Will standing beside him swinging his beater's bat.

"Hey," said Sirius, sliding into the seat next to Remus. Lily glared at him, clearly thinking that he was up to something suspicious.

"What?! Don't give me that look, I haven't done anything," he declared, looking at Hermione for help. She rolled her eyes but leaned closer to Lily anyway.

"He's right. You're being a little unfair to him. They haven't done anything. At least not yet. You have my full, unwavering permission to kill him afterwards, but not until you're sure that they've done something they weren't supposed to do," Hermione said softly in Lily's ear. All her time with Harry and Ron had taught her that she couldn't be accusatory until something actually happened.

"Humph, knowing them, they have something up their sleeves. I don't know what possesses them to do stupid things all the time. You'd think they didn't actually have brains from the way they act," Lily's eyes darted toward Sirius, Remus and Peter, already accusing them of doing something disruptive, but refrained from saying anything else. She did, however, move a little bit closer to Hermione, as through sitting further away from the boys would absolve her of any involvement they might have arranged for her. Knowing them, they might have planned something and involved all of them without even asking. Warmth rose up Hermione's neck as the length of Lily's thigh pressed on her own.

"Well," said Hermione slowly, not wanting to cause Lily to fly into a rage, "it is funny sometimes. The things they do. Completely preposterous, but funny."

"Don't make me want to kill you for being on their side," growled Lily.

"Hey, I'm just being honest. You can't hate me for that," said Hermione, holding up her hands in a gesture of surrender.

"I suppose – if you think stupidity is funny," Lily muttered to herself, but she was sitting so close to Hermione that the other girl could hear her.

There was the sound of the whistle from the pitch below and fourteen players took off from the ground, the keepers taking their positions at the goal posts at each end. Madame Hooch, dark haired and less weathered than the woman who taught Hermione, Harry and Ron to ride a broomstick, rose too after releasing the balls into the game.

"And it's Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle at the moment, Watts flying down the pitch towards the Gryffindor keeper. Can he save it? And yes, there he goes, blocking the Quaffle. Gryffindor now in possession of the Quaffle. Oooh, Potter is just missed by a Bludger. He feints and gets around Slytherin captain Rosewood. She chases after him at full speed. He's approaching the goals and yes, he scores. It's ten to nothing, Gryffindor leading."

Much of the game was in this vein. James scored a few more goals, Slytherin retaliating with scoring some of their own. Will managed to knock one of the Slytherins off their brooms and another Slytherin "accidentally" collided with him while he had his back turned. The crunch that echoed across the pitch made Hermione flinch.

"C'mon where is the Snitch. We need to win this game to stay in the running for the Cup. C'mon, c'mon," Sirius was urging loudly from the other side of Remus. "Yeah! That's right. Show 'em what you've got James," he shouted as James scored another ten points for Gryffindor, who were in the lead. James graced them all with a victory lap, waving his wand and showering the Gryffindor supporters with flower petals. The crowd went wild at this. No one noticed Sirius disappearing into the crowd.

Ten minutes later there were gasps from the crowd as at the bottom of the pitch a giant serpent uncoiled itself from the Slytherin banner. On the opposite side, a giant lion was stepping out of the Gryffindor one, flicking its tail as it finally came free from the fabric.

"Sirius Black, you dickhead," yelled Lily. She turned to Hermione, fuming, "I knew they were going to do something. Didn't I tell you? Didn't I tell you?"

"It's so dangerous," Hermione gasped as the serpent bared its fangs and struck at the lion. The lion in return went to pounce on the serpent, but it was too quick for him, slithering out of the way as the lion landed where it was but a moment before. The snake tried to strike again, the lion swiping at its head with his paw. The stands vibrated with every movement that the two gigantic animals made. With a furious hiss, the snake turned its head away before opening its jaws wider than before and quick as lightning struck the lion on the neck.

"Oh no. Hermione do you think that the snake is venomous? I hope not. The poor lion," Lily was almost in tears as the lion roared in pain and pounced blindly at the snake, landing on top of the serpent's tail as it tried to slither away. The serpent struck again in anger, this time on the lion's side and the lion roared even louder. The sound echoed across the pitch, the vibration felt in the core of everyone present. Some people clamped their hands over their ears. Many were screaming. The snake flicked out its tongue, tasting the air, which was filled with fear at the spectacle unfolding on the pitch's floor. The lion roared again, its mane caught in the wind. The players had flown extremely high to avoid the battle occurring between the giant animals.

"My God. If either the snake or the lion fell over, they could hit the stands and kill people. I can't believe how stupid those boys!" Lily said, her hand taking Hermione's as they watched the lion continually striking at the snake with its huge paw, missing every time. Hermione's heart skipped a beat, which she was sure had nothing to do with the fact that the lion managed by a stroke of luck to hit the serpent in the jaw. The snake hissed in pain and surprise, darting out to bite the lion again with a ferocity that actually scared Hermione. Lily buried her face in Hermione's shoulder and her hand tightened on Hermione's, the other girl reciprocating, her fingers squeezing in terror. Yet, she couldn't look away.

"Oh my god. What on earth is James doing? Is he fucking insane?" screamed Scarlett from in front of them. Each eye turned towards that of the lone figure on the broomstick, descending into the midst of the battle between the serpent and the lion.


End file.
